Old Habits Die Hard
by hullosweetpea
Summary: It's the first time Natasha and Bruce are actually going to sleep together in Bruce's bed and he learns a secret Natasha has kept hidden for decades. Can Bruce convince she's stronger than it?


**A/N: I got this idea after the Scarlet Witch induced nightmare Natasha had and from an episode of Agent Carter. For those of you who follow Sing Me a Lullaby and Postcards That Were Never Sent I'm working on those chapters, but I needed a break. Hope you enjoy.**

Old Habits Die Hard

Bruce was nervous. He understood perfectly well why he was nervous, but at the same time it was completely illogical. After all, it was just Natasha.

No, she'd never really been _just_ Natasha.

When Bruce first returned he deserved the cold shoulder she had given him. He had left, even pulling away when she reached out to him. Eventually, Natasha warmed back up, after all, if she never gave him a chance to apologize they couldn't give what they had a try.

And tonight was a new step. A bit small, but still significant: sleeping together.

In their condition the literal meaning, not the lewd innuendo that Tony loved. The both of them had been laying low the last several months. In fact he might not have found her if his weary feet hadn't found themselves on Clint's front porch looking for an escape. She had been too.

Now he was hidden away in upstate New York; close enough that if the Avengers, specifically Tony, needed him he wasn't far, but far away enough that he felt at peace.

Natasha had dropped by unannounced coming back from a covert mission, a normal occurrence since he had given her his address. When he had first given it to her she dropped by periodically as she was working with the new team of Avengers. Dinner was subtle; sandwiches since that was all Bruce had in his fridge at the time. She didn't mind. There was small talk; discussing what she was doing, what he was doing, how Clint and Lara's children were doing, the new Avengers, and what the old Avengers were doing.

And then night fell.

Natasha usually never left since it was always easier to go back to the base when it was morning. They had fallen into a pattern where after dinner they may continue talking or watch a movie, but it always ended the same: Natasha on the couch and Bruce in his bed.

But not tonight.

Natasha was in the master bath changing into something more comfortable to wear to bed; this time it was a pair of Bruce's sweats and her tank top. Bruce was in his bed, worrying, for absolutely no reason, he kept reminding himself.

His heart beat quickened when he heard the door click open and Natasha came out. "Where do you want me to put my clothes?"

Bruce blinked. "I guess you can leave them in the bathroom if you want."

She nodded and ducked back into the bathroom to place her gear inside. The moment she left he began to worry again. Would she have any preference to which side she slept on? Did she sleep under blankets or on top of them? It's _Natasha_ , he reminded himself.

She came back out, the soft glow from the bathroom casting shadows across the carpet, quickly extinguished with the deafening flick of the light switch.

It was dark.

Bruce blinked rapidly to adjust to the sudden change in light exposure, searching in the dark for her.  
The mattress let out a small groan as she sat down next to him. He felt the warmth radiating off of her from the quick shower she had taken. Droplets of water raced down her neck and shoulders; the quick movements of her head sent a spray across what was near to her, several landing on Bruce. "You okay, Bruce," she whispered.

He found it odd that so many, including her, felt it necessary to whisper in the dark. As if whatever happened in the dark was to never reach the light of day. Or maybe it was something else entirely. She was a spy, growing up in the shadows, as silent as a feather floating in the air. Perhaps for her this gentle whisper was loud; the discussions she had with her fellow Avengers like the roar of the crashing sea.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "yeah I'm okay. Do you want to sleep on this side because I can-"  
She laid a finger across his lips silencing him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. Just sleeping, remember?"

He took a deep breath. "Yeah, I do."

She scooted closer and kissed him, encompassing his face with her hands, the pads of her fingertips warm and soothing. He hesitantly rested his hands on her waist, feeling her warm skin through the thin tank top. She broke away slowly, heavy eyelids obscuring her luminous blue eyes from his view. "Good night."

"Good night," he replied the last syllables lingering in the air between them. She rolled over and faced away from him, but he didn't take it as an insult. They're relationship was a slow one and he knew they wouldn't be able to hit every hallmark like other couples. He rolled over and faced away from her has well, not wanting to tempt himself.

Having someone else in his bed was definitely something he hadn't experienced in several years and still an hour later he wasn't asleep. He had slowed and steadied his breathing in the hopes that maybe it would trigger sleep, but to no avail. He watched as Natasha's side rose up and down as she slept, a hand crept under her pillow, blanket pulled up to her shoulders. Watching her relaxed him, and matching her breathing he found the solace he had been looking for. As his heavy, sleep deprived eye lids fell down he heard it.

The sickening sound of a pair of handcuffs clicking close.

Bruce eyes flew open, but he didn't move as he heard the other cuff clasp itself, the now deafening sound accompanying it, to something metal.

He slowly moved his wrists into view and breathed a sigh of relief when finding no resistance or the familiar glint of metal on them.

But now the new question was where those handcuffs were located.

He scooted himself slowly closer to Natasha and sat up so he could look over her body and find where her hands were. He involuntarily sucked in a deep breath when he saw the thick metal cuff encircled around her creamy wrist. Following the chain he saw the other cold circle around the leg of the nightstand.

Bruce had no idea of what to make of it, but was not given much time to think about it as blue eyes opened, revealing an emotion he had never seen in them: terror.

Words stumbled from her mouth and at first Bruce thought she might be talking nonsense until the pieces connected, it was Russian, which meant whatever the handcuffs were for could possibly be traced back there. When she stopped he was struck with the realization that he had to say something; this wasn't something he could just let fall. "Natasha," his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, "what are the-" his eyes darted to her wrist and the night table, " _they_ for?"

She sat up hesitantly, the clink of the handcuffs echoing in the silent room. "Protection."

"From who? You're safe here."

"You."

Bruce was taken aback by her words, even a bit hurt. "Me?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, I'm protecting you from me."

"Natasha," Bruce laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shied away, "there's no reason to. Just unlock them and sleep."

"You don't understand. They said if we didn't we would hurt others in our sleep," her voice lowered until he could barely hear her, "I saw it happen before. I could never risk you."

Bruce didn't need for her to clarify who it was that said she need to be locked up even in her sleep. "Natasha, you aren't there anymore. They have no control over you. If you want give me the key and then I'll uncuff you."

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Yes you can."

"Budapest."

"What about Budapest?"

"While Clint and I were in Budapest, among other calamities, he noticed my handcuffs and convinced me to sleep without them. When I woke up I was on top of him, his blood on my hands, a knife against his throat, and he had a gun aimed at me." She took a shaky breath. "He looked so scared. I guess he thought he'd seen me at my worst," a nervous laugh escaped from her lips, "he was wrong. Ever since I've kept at it, I couldn't let it happen again."

Bruce gripped her tightly by her shoulders. "You can fight this Natasha. Just try, one last time."

Natasha shook her head defiantly. "No, I refuse to hurt you."

"No, I will. The Other Guy wouldn't let that happen."

"And I won't do that to you either."

"Please, for me?"

Natasha looked into Bruce's eyes and slowly nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," replied Bruce.

She warily buried herself tightly under the blankets and kept herself at the far edge of the bed. Bruce kept his distance so she wouldn't feel smothered and his tired mind didn't even protest as he shut his eyes.

-o-O-o-

Sunlight came in delicate rays as they found the cracks in Bruce's curtains, waking the scientist up. He woke up with a stretch and a yawn, his foot nudging the leg of the red head beside him.

She blinked the sunlight away as she woke up and caught a glimpse of Bruce. "Good morning."

He smiled at her. "Everything was fine."

"Yes," she said as she sat up and placed a chaste kiss against his lips. "Thank you."

He smiled at the fierce woman who had overcome so much. "You're welcome." 


End file.
